He Waited For Her

Dear reader,

This short story was penned in my lunch hour from the writing prompt ‘He waited for her’.

Thanks for reading,

Nicola x

***

He waited for her, he’d waited for her his whole life. The flowers he’d chosen were perfect, the long sleek stems merging imperceptibly with the stylish white trumpets of the Lilly. Their purity were the embodiment of her spirit, her beauty mirrored in their perfect form.

He’d chosen the perfect spot, close enough to her home that she wouldn’t have too far to walk. She would appreciate that gesture, she was that sort of person.

The small box in his pocket was pressing against his ribs, he trembled with the anticipation of producing it at the perfect moment, the moment when they committed to one another. He loved her, she was everything to him and the dream that she’d be with him forever warmed him to the core, his soul humming with silent contentment at finding its mate.

He glanced at his watch, he’d arrived early to ensure they didn’t miss each other. Their schedules were always manic, they’d had to make an appointment just to meet this morning, some days her Twitter feed was the only way to reach her but he always made time to message and remind her she was on his thoughts. She appreciated the little things and he made sure to pay full attention to them. He liked to surprise her with little gifts and sometimes poems that she’d inspired him to write. He wasn’t afraid to express himself in verse, it was no degradation to him. He loved her, she deserved to be cherished.

His heel tapped involuntarily on the slabs beneath it, the butterflies gathering in his stomach making it difficult to sit still. She would be here soon.

***

She waited for him, her nails bitten to the quick as she watched the street below from her first floor flat. She saw him arrive a full thirty minutes before their agreed meeting time, he had brought her Calla Lillies just like he said he would. They reminded him of her beauty, they reminded her of death.

He didn’t look a day over forty, his angular face was clean shaven with short dark hair showing only the earliest signs of sprinkled greys. He wore a tailored suit with excessively shiny shoes. She was expecting an unkempt middle-aged man in a mac, what she saw was a businessman and probably a successful one if first impressions were to be trusted. Her traitorous libido registered an involuntary appreciation of the well groomed man and she swallowed down the hysterical laugh that bubbled below the surface of her sanity.

Ironically, her home was filled with the gifts he’d lavished on her. They were only small to begin with, little tokens that were delivered to her office, flowers, beautiful candles and theatre tickets. Then slowly they became more extravagant, some of the artwork was extraordinary but always excessive. She’d only recently removed a diamond bracelet she’d received from a fan when she’d learnt it was from him. She could never remove the shame though, the shame at having been flattered by his attention to such a degree that she’d failed to recognise the sinister turn his attention was taking. Her Twitter feed became his constant hunting ground for her attention, her blog posts an opportunity to demand her response.

She’d become irritated and then uncomfortable with his ever heightening demands for her attention, he claimed to love her even though they had never met, he mocked her with stories of her day that could only have been recalled if he’d been close to her yet she didn’t recognise him, she didn’t recall having ever seen him before.

She’d dealt with situations like this before, all public figures have but letting him down gently wasn’t working. She could still see the charred remains of graffiti painted on the pavement below, the white declaration of love had been burnt away by contractors last week but the shadow of it remained to haunt her. He knew where she lived, it wouldn’t have been hard to find out, everybody lives somewhere but the thought that her tormentor could be so close had tipped her over the edge.

The policewoman touched her shoulder and indicated it was time. She removed her mobile from her jeans pocket with shaking hands and sent the prearranged text message.

‘I’m on my way.’

The policewoman nodded her approval as they turned to watch out of the window. The well groomed man on the bench looked at the phone in his hand and smiled. His smile faded as he was approached and addressed by two plain clothed and two uniformed officers. He looked confused and then angry. He stood up shaking his head, indicated his watch and struggled as he was handcuffed and his head was pushed down into the waiting car.

The car drove away and she let out the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. He was gone, she felt her shoulders drop by several inches in sheer relief. He would never wait for her again.

***

Thank you for reading my story.

If you enjoyed it or even if you didn’t, please remember to comment and vote. Your feedback will help me to improve my writing technique and I will love you forever! (*I made that bit up*)

2 Responses to He Waited For Her

  1. It was suspenseful, and had me on the edge of my seat! I thought it was a love story, and then it seemed to go into stalker mode..great writing, I will check out more of your short stories! 🙂

    -thebrunetteinthepinkscarf

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you, thank you. I love to get feedback, especially when it’s positive 🙂

      There are only a few on this Flash Fiction page, I’ll upload some more now I’m getting braver.

      Most of these are shorts created from writing prompts. The Heart Scarab and Poppies and Pants (rubbish title!) are first chapters of stories that I intend to turn into longer pieces eventually.

      I’d love to know what you think anytime, good or bad.

      Thanks,

      Nicola

      Like

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